


Cookies and Cushions

by Nova_Belaqua



Category: RWBY
Genre: Cookies, Family Fluff, Family bonding pillow war, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Ozpin just wants to bake, Pillow Fights, Pillow war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:23:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21964894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nova_Belaqua/pseuds/Nova_Belaqua
Summary: This is not at all what Ozpin meant by "Get out from under my feet!" but Qrow and Oscar seemed happy enough and it wasn't like they'd broken anything. Or re entered the kitchen.Domestic fluff with a large does of chaos.
Relationships: Oscar Pine & Ozpin, Oscar Pine & Qrow Branwen, Qrow Branwen/Ozpin
Comments: 5
Kudos: 61





	Cookies and Cushions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kateinator](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kateinator/gifts).



> This is my Secret Santa gift for Kateitron over on Tumblr, I hope you enjoy this short as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Breathless laughter filled the small living room of a modest cottage on the outskirts of Vale, a pillow flew across the room and by some miracle found its way through the archway into the kitchen; just barely missing the mop of silvery grey hair that belonged to one slightly irate Professor Ozpin Pine. Neither offender took responsibility for the plush projectile and instead pointed hurriedly at each other, both doing their utmost best to maintain a face of innocence. Neither were particularly convincing in this act, the corners of their mouths quirking as they fought down giggles. Setting the bowl of cookie dough he'd been working on, Oz knelt slowly to pick up the cushion, mindful to dust the flour off his hands first; the small white dust heralding the doom of either his son or his husband as they settled and coated the previously pristine grey denim jeans with smudged handprints.

Oscar Pine, Ozpins fourteen-year-old, jumped to the right with a yelp, watching the offensive cushion collide with his fellow pillow warriors face with a soft flump. For what it was worth the gangly man did seem to try and keep his balance, taking two steps back before ultimately falling over the fallout of his own handiwork; pillows and cushions of all shapes and sizes littering the floor, collected from around the house with the express purpose of "Getting out from under Ozpins feet". 

After ten minutes of deliberation, Qrows wine-red eyes had lit up and with Oscars' help, he began to rearrange the living room furniture to create a series of barricades to duck behind. It then became an arm's race to have as much ammunition from around the house as they could, even going so far as to claim the emerald cushions from Ozpins attic study on the third floor. The second both of them made it back, arms full of soft projectiles, they had launched their attacks on each other. Hurling pillows and aiming to kill. Or perhaps just temporarily incapacitate. 

In Oscar's opinion, Qrows' aim had certainly been killer; over a decade of huntsman work and similar fights with his nieces, Yang and Ruby, honing his aim. Only the boys' reflexes had saved him, ducking his head below the edge of the armchair that was his chosen hiding place. He reckoned he got in a few hits but the battle had seemed endless as his dove behind the sofa, seeking more projectiles in his bid to win. At some point Oz had turned up his music in the kitchen to drown out their battle and had only added fuel to their fire, playing epic orchestrals that swelled out from his safe haven of baking into the war zone that was once the families living room. 

With the perfect touch of drama added to the war, Oscar and Qrow began to go all out; leaping over furniture to grab any discarded cushions to hurl at each other as they flew for new cover, swinging with all their strength to get the required force to knock their opponent down.

It had admittedly been during one of these hit and cover style exchanges that a stray cushion had shot past Ozpins head, landing both of them in some degree of trouble. In truth, neither of them actually knew who's throw had hit Oz, and at this point neither were willing to find out as the lanky man stooped to pick up another cushion, this time turning his sights on Oscar.

Everything dissolved into chaos as Oscar scrambled to get away from his father, who whilst less nimble was faster, his long legs eating up the ground between them as he leaped over furniture and through doorways, hunting down his son like a terrier chasing a rabbit.

Crashing down onto his side, Oscar managed to roll under the dining table, just barely avoiding the blue cushion decorated with little corgis that whizzed over the table and hit the opposite wall. Barking out a victorious laugh, the young teen scampered away, leaving his father muttering to himself about revenge and chaotic family members. Smiling to himself, Oscar bounced through the kitchen, taking the small piece of cookie dough offered to him by Qrow, who had taken the chance to calm down slightly and make a pot of coffee for himself and Oscar, as well as a pan of hot chocolate for his chocoholic husband.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With the cookies now baked and cooling and most of the cushions and pillows reinstated to their proper places( _most)_ ; the little family settled down for the evening, nestled together on the plush grey sofa with a large patchwork blanket of crocheted squares draped over them. Qrow flicked idly through their Netflix, looking for a good film to put up, though ultimately settling for rewatching series five of Doctor Who, something about the bouncy Timelord reminded him of a younger Ozpin. Oz, with Oscar nestled under one arm, had draped his legs over Qrow and managed to curl himself against his shorter spouse. Qrow had long since stopped questioning the Headmasters' ability to fit into any number of small spaces despite his long gangly frame, opting instead to simply roll with whatever strange happenings occurred around them.

Oscar, for the most part, ignored his parents watching Doctor Who, content to let the SciFi become low background noise as he lost himself in his book; trekking across mountains with a little golden ring around his neck and a short sword at his hip. He didn't even here Qrows soft exclamation as snow began to fall outside, complete absorbed in his imagination and comfortably warm as he leaned into Ozpins turtleneck, pressing his cheek into the soft woolen fibers. This little warm world was all he needed; his dad, Qrow and their stone cottage.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Outside, the snow continued to fall, painting the landscape white as it coated every surface available. But it could not touch the warmth that emanated from the Pine household. The gods themselves could re-enter the world of Remnant and the little family would be none the wiser, comfort and safe in each other's company.

They were all they needed.


End file.
